


Sugar and Spice

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a box of women's clothing that the last occupants of their apartment had left behind.  Bucky remembered picking up a pair of panties and throwing them at Steve and saying, "Go on, Rogers, these look about your size."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar and Spice

**Author's Note:**

> I blame my tumblr friends for this. You are all enablers of the worst kind. 
> 
> Also, this story is the first part of a trilogy. That's right, a trilogy. Why is this my life?

It started with a box of women's clothing that the last occupants of their apartment had left behind. Bucky remembered picking up a pair of panties and throwing them at Steve and saying, "Go on, Rogers, these look about your size."

Steve had turned bright red, from the tips of his ears, all the way down his neck. "Shut up, Bucky," he said, with more anger than Bucky thought was necessary, and stormed out.

Bucky didn't know what he'd done, but when Steve got home, he touched Steve on the shoulder and smiled.

Steve smiled back, so it was all right.

***** 

They were drunk and the apartment was hot so they stripped down to their skivvies and sprawled out on the floor. Bucky blinked at Steve, taking in his skinny body and said, "You'd be a pretty dame." 

Steve was quiet, so quiet that Bucky thought he might be asleep. Then Steve rolled over to face him. "Yeah? You think so?"

"Betcha you'd look pretty in stockings and a dress." He reached over and traced the curve of one of Steve's bony shoulders. "Got smaller tits than I like."

Steve blushed and looked away.

"Still nice, though." He didn't want to hurt Steve's feelings. He gently cupped one of Steve's tits and brushed his thumb over the nipple, which hardened right up; Steve let out a soft gasp, but didn’t pull away. "You're so pretty."

"Bucky," Steve said, in a breathy whisper.

"You are." Bucky leaned in and licked Steve's bottom lip. Steve moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. "My pretty girl. Gonna dress up for me, baby? Gonna put on your best dress and some stockings? Gonna let me take you out and kiss you goodnight and stick my hand up your dress and finger you?"

Steve whimpered and squeezed his eyes closed even tighter.

Bucky pushed Steve onto his back and kissed him, properly this time, with tongue and teeth. Steve was panting harshly, hands clenched into fists, his underwear doing nothing to hide the fact that he had a hard on. "C'mon, baby. Tell me you want that too."

"I do." Steve let out a sob, his hips making little jerking movements, like he was trying to fuck into something. The front of his underwear was getting wet; God, he must be leaking something fierce.

Bucky slid a hand down Steve's torso. "You getting wet for me, baby? You soaking your panties for me?"

"Y-Yes," Steve panted. "So wet for you, Bucky… Bucky, please!"

"Please, what, baby? You want me to feel how wet you are? I can do that." He cupped Steve and gave a gentle squeeze.

Steve wailed, thrusting up against Bucky's hand as he came, his breath coming out harsh, his whole body jerking like he was having a fit.

Fuck! Bucky shoved his free hand into his own underwear and jerked off. It didn't take long. Soon he was coming into his own hand, harder than he'd ever done before. When he finished, he used his underwear to wipe his hand clean.

Steve curled up against him, warm and sleepy and Bucky stroked his back. "You don’t mind?" he asked, nuzzling Bucky's neck.

"What?"

"That I wanna be a girl." Steve yawned against his shoulder.

"No," he said, though he didn't really understand what Steve was trying to say. Not that it mattered. Steve was his best friend, the only family he had. Steve could be whoever or whatever he wanted and Bucky wouldn't mind as long as they could be together. 

"Love you, Buck." Steve let out a sigh, his body going completely lax.

He pressed a kiss to Steve's hair. "Love you, too, pal."

***** 

Bucky woke up the next morning on the floor, his body aching, his head pounding. He sat up, groaned softly and looked over at the far corner where Steve was making breakfast. Oatmeal, probably, it was all they could afford these days. Bucky pulled on his pants and stumbled over to the kitchen where he pressed against Steve's back.

Steve tensed, his jaw clenching tight. He stared, furiously, at the pot of oatmeal, stirring it with an intensity Bucky had only seen him use for his art. 

It hit Bucky that Steve was ashamed, probably embarrassed by his confession last night. Like it mattered to Bucky whether Steve was a boy or a girl. His mind raced as he thought of what to say, what to do. He cleared his throat. "Is there enough for both of us?"

"Yeah," Steve said, low and rough. 

Bucky took a deep breath and let it slowly. Then he pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek. "That's my girl."

Steve froze for a moment, and then all the tension drained from his body. He looked at Bucky, his eyes wary; Bucky looked back, calmly, without judgment. Steve smiled and ducked his head. "Didn't say I was your… your girl." 

Bucky put his hands on Steve's hips and kissed Steve's neck. "After last night, I didn't think you had to. Ah, but I know, a girl likes to be asked. So will ya? Will ya be my girl?"

Steve shrugged his shoulder. "Sure. Why not?" 

***** 

It took Bucky two weeks to convince Steve to try on one of the dresses that the previous tenants had left behind. Two weeks of assuring him that Bucky wouldn't think it was weird or sick. It took two weeks to convince him to do what Bucky knew he wanted to do. 

The dress was too big. The straps hung off Steve's shoulders and the stockings sagged, but Bucky had never seen anyone more beautiful. He walked over to Steve, cupped his face, and kissed him. "You're perfect, Steve."

"Stevie. Call me Stevie." Steve—no, Stevie fidgeted and lowered his… *her* lashes. "I look like a little kid playing dress up."

"So we'll fix the dress," he said. "We'll fix the dress and I'll steal you some stockings that fit."

"Bucky, no!" It was strange; Stevie was so different from Steve. There was something soft about her, she was shier than Steve, more graceful.

"You deserve pretty things." He cupped her face and brushed her mouth with his thumb. "I wanna see you all dolled up."

"What for?" She tilted her head and Bucky kissed the side of her throat.

"I wanna take you out. I wanna go dancing with you." He licked the skin behind her ear just to hear her moan.

"You know we can't do that." Stevie's voice went softer.

"There are places we can go where no one would look twice. I'm not ashamed of you, baby. I'll never be ashamed of you."

"Oh, Bucky." Stevie wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He moaned into her mouth and walked her back into the bed and tumbled them both across it. 

"Hurry, I want you."

"Yeah, oh, yeah." He bit her bottom lip, worried at it with his tongue, and shoved her dress up to her waist. She wasn't wearing any panties; he grabbed her dick and gave it a few tugs, until she was thrusting into his hand. Then he pushed down his pants and underwear and rubbed up against her. 

Stevie wrapped her legs around his waist and arched against him. 

"God, you're so beautiful," he said and pressed hard kisses along her jaw. "I wanna fuck you until you scream."

Her breath hitched in her throat and she shuddered violently, coming all over his stomach.

He grunted, thrusting faster, imagining how tight she'd feel around his dick. How perfect. When he came, minutes later, it was with her name on his lips. 

***** 

Bucky stole her new stockings, but before she could try them out, she got sick again. It was the second time since spring and Bucky busted his chops to make enough extra cash to buy her some medicine. When he entered their bedroom, he could hear her struggling for breath. Each gasp was a punch in his gut and he wished he could more for her. Hell, he wished he could do something, * anything* to help her. 

"Hey, baby," He sat on the bed and brushed sweaty hair back from her forehead. "I got you some medicine."

She coughed and her whole body seized with the force of it; Bucky winced and crooned softly. When the worst of it was gone, she flopped back onto the pillow, looking exhausted, her fever-red cheeks the only color on her face. "How'd you manage that?"

"Found some work on the dock," he said.

Stevie narrowed her eyes. "Doing what?"

"A little of this, a little of that." He gave her an exasperated look. "I did what I had to, okay? Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, Stevie." 

"Okay." She looked away and he knew she was thinking that it was her fault that the work he did wasn't always on the up and up.

"You'll be good as new in no time," he said, opening up the bottle and handing it to her. "Once you're back at work, I won't have to do stuff that make glare at me like that." Stevie glared at him and he smiled. "Just like that."

Stevie rolled her eyes, took a couple of swigs of the medication—wincing at the taste—and handed the bottle back to him. "Let's hope I still have a job to go back to."

"Don't talk like that, baby." He set the bottle down on the nightstand and stroked her hair. "Mr. Mason would be an idiot to let you go. You're the best worker he's got."

"Yeah, when I'm not sick." Stevie brushed his hand away. "I don’t know what you're doing with me, Bucky. Why don't you find yourself a real dame? One you can marry, who'll give you a couple of kids. Why're you sticking around with a pervert like me?"

"You're not a pervert," he said angrily. "And I'm sticking around because I love you, you jerk. Now stop talking about my girl like that. Okay?"

Stevie nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Get some rest. When you wake up, I'll give you a sponge bath." He waggled his eyebrows at her and she let out a wheezing laugh. 

***** 

In the winter, the apartment was so cold that the radiator froze. They piled every blanket they had onto the bed and huddled together for warmth.

"Your fingers are cold," she said, her face tucked up against his neck. 

"So? Your big feet are cold." He yelped when she pressed said feet against his calves. "Oh, is that how you wanna play it, baby?" He slipped a hand up her nightgown and between her thighs.

She closed her legs, trapping his hand, and gently bit his throat.

"Aww, c'mon, don't do that." Bucky wiggled his fingers. "Open your legs for me, baby. Let me play with your hole. I bet it's still wet from earlier."

"Bucky," she said, sounding both breathless and embarrassed. "Don't talk like that." 

He smiled and nuzzled her hair. "You love it when I talk dirty. It gets you hot. It makes your pussy all wet." She squirmed against him and he could feel her dick getting hard. "Open your legs for me. Please?"

She shuddered and let her legs fall open.

"That's my girl." He slid his hand up her thigh, cupped her balls and gave them a gentle squeeze, then moved hand back to play with her hole. It was still sloppy with his come and loose enough that he could easy push two fingers inside of her. 

Stevie rocked back on his fingers, moaning and whimpering, then letting out a low guttural sound when he crooked his fingers. "Bucky. Oh, god, Bucky. Please, you gotta— Please!"

"What do I gotta do?" he asked. His cock throbbed and his breathing sped up to match hers. "Go on, say it. You know I love it when you say it."

"Fuck me!" She bit his shoulder and dragged her nails down his back. "Fuck me right now!"

He hissed softly, pulled his fingers out of her, and shoved her onto her back. He went to grab the Vaseline, but she stopped him. 

"I'm wet enough."

Bucky wanted to protest, but he knew better. Sometimes she liked a little pain with her pleasure. He didn't understand it, but he wanted her to be happy. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, lined up his cock, and entered her slowly.

Stevie gripped at the pillow under her head, her mouth slack with pleasure. She was virgin tight around his cock and he wanted to just slam into her, make her cry with pleasure, but he made himself wait. He made himself wait until she was squirming on his cock and begging him to fuck her. 

He rocked his hips, moving in and out of her slowly, letting the heat build up agonizingly slow. She cursed him between moans and grunts and wails, her body arching and thrusting against his. He laughed and practically bent her in half so he could kiss her red, swollen mouth. 

"Goddamn it, Bucky, faster! I'm not gonna break!"

"Oh, I know, baby," he said. He grinned down at her, slowly drew his cock out of her until just the tip rested in her body, then snapped his hips forward, smothering her cry with a kiss. He quickened his pace, fucking into her as hard and as fast as she wanted. 

She loved it, rolling her hips into his thrusts, her dick painting lines of precome on his belly. He held her down by her wrists, his hips rabbiting against her until she came on his cock, shuddering and crying out his name, her hole clamping around his cock.

He fought against his own orgasm, but she arched up against him and said, "Please, Bucky. Come in me again. Get me all wet."

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His orgasm hit him like a freight train and for a second or two he might have even blacked out. He pulled out of her with a shudder, his chest heaving.

"Well," Stevie panted, "that warmed us up."

He snorted and pulled her against him. "Yeah, but I'm still gonna tell Mr. Calvino that he needs to fix the radiator."

Stevie hummed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I was talking to some of the guys today at work and they reckon we'll be going to war soon. Some of 'em are even talking about going overseas now, joining up early."

Bucky rolled his eyes and made a disgusted sound. "They're full of it. We got enough trouble in our own country. We don't need to borrow more."

"I don’t know, I think they might be right about us going to war. What's going on over there isn't right and if we can do something we should." Stevie ran her hand along his side. "My dad fought in the last war."

"That doesn't mean that you have to." He swallowed hard. "Or that you should."

"I can fight just as well as anybody else," Stevie said.

Bucky didn't respond and Stevie tensed beside him. "Look, I don't wanna fight about this. Not when we don't even know what's gonna happen." 

Stevie let out a heavy sigh and turned away from him. "Yeah, okay."

He gave a sigh of his own, but left her alone. She needed to realize for herself that joining up was a crazy idea. 

***** 

 

Bucky didn't like it when Stevie came home with bruises and blood on her face, but he knew getting on her case about it only got her all steamed up. So when he sawy the fat lip and a black eye, he only sighed at her and asked what happened.

"A couple a jerks were bothering a girl," she said, shucking off her jacket and peeling off her work clothes.

"How many jerks?" He curled his hands into fists and took a deep breath.

"Just two." She slipped into the bedroom to change. "They weren't too big and they couldn't fight worth beans."

Bucky counted to ten, then twenty. "Do you know who they are?"

"No," Steve called out from the room. When she came out a few minutes later, she was in her favorite skirt and blouse, and had a wet cloth pressed against her bottom lip. "I wouldn’t tell you if I knew."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need you fighting my battles, that's why." Stevie settled on the couch next to him. 

"Coulda fooled me." A hurt expression crossed her face and he looked away. "I should be able to take care of my girl."

"You do," Stevie said softly.

"If I did, you wouldn't come home looking like that." He wasn't mad at her, not really. Girl or guy, Stevie was Stevie; she'd always fight for the underdog.

"I like that you take care of me, Buck. You know I do. But I don't need you to protect me. I don't need you to pretend that I'm made out of glass. Because I'm not." She moved the washcloth from her lip. "Is it still bleeding?"

He glanced at her mouth and shook his head. 

She stretched out on the couch with a little hum, and kicked his thigh. "It's your turn to make dinner. No oatmeal!"

Bucky groaned and slowly got to his feet. "I think we got a can of beans."

Stevie wrinkled her nose but didn't protest. Until they got paid, food was gonna be scarce. 

"So how come you're home late?" He took the can out of the cupboard and opened it up with his knife. "Getting beat up usually doesn't take you that long."

"Ha ha." She let out a sigh. "They opened up a recruitment center near work."

Bucky froze at her words, his pulse racing. "What? You try to join up?"

"I wouldn’t do that without talking to you first." Stevie rubbed her tongue over her bottom lip. "Don’t tell me you haven't thought about it."

He shrugged and lit the pilot on the stove. Then he dumped the beans into a pot and set it on the fire. "Sure, of course I have. Three squares a day and a steady paycheck; what guy hasn't?" 

"Don't forget to stir the beans," she said. "You'll burn them otherwise." 

"I got it." Bucky grabbed a spoon and waved it at her. "You can't save the whole world, you know." 

"I don't want to save the whole world. I just want to do what I can."

"And you think you can fight." He stirred the beans; if they burned, he'd never hear the end of it.

"I know I can." Stevie sounded so confident. "I just have to convince everyone else I can." 

"If anyone can, it's you," he said and she smiled. 

***** 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, her recruitment papers clenched in his hand. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"And you're *not*?"

He sighed and rubbed his face; he was so goddamn tired of this argument. "I've got a better chance than you." 

She clenched her jaw, her back straight, and glared at him. "Go to hell."

***** 

They sat quietly at the table, the stew that Mrs. Smith gave them earlier growing cold. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he should say something or if it would anger her.

"Don't be mad," he said, when it felt like the silence was getting to be too much. 

"I'm not mad." She poked at the stew with her spoon. "I'm worried. Who's gonna watch your back?"

"The whole United States Army?"

Stevie laughed softly; it wasn't a happy sound. "I should be there with you."

"I'll write you every day." Bucky reached over and took her hand. "The other guys will be jealous 'cause my girl is so beautiful."

She snatched her hand back. "I'm not your girl! And I'm never gonna be your *girl*, no matter how much we pretend!"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, stung by her words. "Stevie…" 

"If was a girl, maybe they'd take me and I'd be able to do *something*." She got to her feet. "I'm not gonna stop trying, Bucky. They'll have to take me sooner or later. I'll make them take me." 

"For me," he said.

"No!" She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "For me."

Bucky sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault they took you and not me."

"Will you see me off?' He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.

"I'll probably have work." She flushed, then slumped back down in her chair, like all her energy was sucked out of her. "Of course I will. Damn. Dammit. I'm so mad at you for leaving me behind." 

He wasn't, not for a minute. "Let's go to the movies tomorrow night. My treat."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Stevie picked up her spoon and began to eat.

Bucky let out a deep breath. "Hey, did you read the paper? They're holding the World Expo here this year. If I get leave, we should go."

"That sounds like fun." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Bucky pretended he didn't notice. Sure things were tough right now, but everything would be all right in the end. As long as he had his girl with him.


End file.
